


Drowning in Blue

by Palagypsian



Series: Kerberos Project [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-02 03:49:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11501166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Palagypsian/pseuds/Palagypsian
Summary: In his time at the Garrison, Lance has never shown any interest in things like deep-space exploration. Well, the idea was interesting, but gathering ice chunks from the other side of the solar system just doesn’t appeal to him. But when Hunk persuades him to join the long list of cadets interested in joining the Kerberos Mission, Lance will find that the road to success and the road to ruin lie much closer than one might think.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry about there being no summary and all. Anyways if you like this chapter please comment below or give this story kudos it really helps a lot!!!! Please enjoy!!

Slamming a boot down onto the top of the stairs, Hunk races through the corridors, heavy breathing able to be heard from miles away. Cupping the corner of one of the walls to the dorms to steady himself, he makes a sharp turn and bounds through the Garrison hallway, occasionally pushing someone out of his way.

“Hey, watch where you’re going, man!” One such person yells at the orange blur, steadying his thin glasses and grasping at his fallen paper. Shooting him an apologetic look, Hunk can only reply with a quick, “Sorry!” and a wave of the hand before continuing on his way, orange headband rippling behind him. He skids to a stop in front of one of the dorms, and drops to his knees, panting heavily before knocking on the wooden frame. Wheezing his roommate’s name, he breathes heavily and wipes his forehead, sitting himself down in front of the door and putting a hand to his heart. Geez, he wasn’t made for this.

“Hunk?” Lance’s voice echos slightly in the hallway, crouching down to meet his eye level. Half of his face is covered with some sort of teal face cream, the minty smell sharp and intense. Curling his nostrils slightly, Hunk continues to pant as Lance’s face shifts from confusion to concern.

“Hunk, buddy. Talk to me. What’s going on? What’s happening?” His best friend fires off, taking one of Hunk’s hands in his own and staring at him with bright, worried eyes.

“The Garrison...They...one spot only..we have to.” Hunk pants, sweat dripping down his forehead.

Shaking Hunk slightly, Lance’s face grows even more distressed every passing minute. “We have to what, Hunk?”

“Dude, they opened up..a spot.. On the Kerberos mission! We..have to try!!” Hunk wheezes out, smiling widely, excitement seeping into his unsteady voice. Lance drops his arms immediately, taking a step back as Hunk steadies his frame on the doorway. By now, a few passerby are staring at the two confusedly, eyebrows raised. Lance quickly grabs Hunk by his shirt and drags him inside, flashing a bright smile and finger guns at the stragglers before slamming the door shut. Locking it securely, he faces the (slightly) shorter cadet.

“Bro, what the fuck. You raced all the way from…” Lance fixes a glare at Hunk, face shifting from concerned to annoyed.

“The cafeteria.” Hunk supplies helpfully, settling himself down onto one of the chairs.

“The cafeteria for this?!” He waves his arms around the room for emphasis, settling them down and crossing them sternly. Hunk smiles, crinkling the corners of his eyes. The half applied cream on Lance’s face and the ridiculous bathrobe he was wearing wasn’t anything close to intimidating.  
“Dude, I was only half finished applying my face cream! And, I paused ‘Keeping up with Kardashians’ for you! My favorite episode!” Lance whines, turning around and stalking up into the bathroom, leaving Hunk to get his own water and concerned hugs.

Making his way into the small bathroom, Hunk downs the rest of his water and casually unpauses Lance’s TV show, opening the door slightly in order to enter. Lance is hovered over the bathroom sink, rubbing the hardened cream from his face. “It dried, so I have to start all over.” He supplies to Hunk’s reflection, beginning to apply the fresh teal-colored mud mixture to his face.

“So, what’s the story? Why exactly did this news intrigue you so much that you sprinted from the cafeteria all the way to here at..” Lance casts a glance to the TV. “..7 P.M? Jeez, that’s early.” He mumbles at the end to himself, fixing his blue eyes to Hunk’s rather sheepish reflection.

“Well…” He scratches his face sheepishly with one finger, leaning against the door-frame. “I was in the cafeteria for a late-night snack.” He pauses to smile at Lance mockingly asking “And you didn’t get anything for me?? Offended Hunk.” before continuing his story, throwing the empty plastic into the garbage can by his feet.

“So when I was walking out, I saw the announcement board, and there was a new sign. So, being the nosy person that I am and checking it out, I realize that it said that they were opening a spot on the Kerberos mission for the top student at the Garrison! The Kerberos Mission! Can you believe it?!” Hunk smiles dreamily at the end, his slight obsession with the mission beginning to peek out. Lance had always known that Hunk wanted to learn more about Kerberos.

Lance sighs, setting the jar of face mask down. Turning his head and motioning for Hunk to book it out of there, he shoves his various other products into the cabinets before switching off the lights, joining Hunk on their beat-up roommate couch in the living area.

“So, why tell me?” Lance questions, sitting down next to Hunk. The Kardashians episode is already over, so he switches it off and focuses his attention on his roommate. Hunk smirks slightly, eyes crinkling, and oh hell no, Lance knows what that means.

“No, Hunk, I know what that smirk means, and I am most definitely not doing it.”

“But Lance, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity!” Hunk pouts, brown eyes liquidly. Damn it, why does Hunk have to look like a kicked puppy when he pouts???

“It’s just another boring mission to find more boring space ice. Yippee.” Lance rolls his eyes, pointedly keeping his gaze away from Hunk’s puppy stare of death, disinterest practically radiating from off of him. He winces slightly at Hunk’s loud gasp of horror, clutching an ear as his friend catapults himself off the couch.

“Lance, Lance, buddy. My man. I’m gonna stop you right there.”

Hunk crouches down in front of Lance, taking his hands in his own.

“This is a once in a LIFETIME opportunity. How many other people our age can say that they went to a planet no one else, in the entire history of the world, has put a foot onto? You’d be a legend to Earth. Plus, I’m not even going to get started on how amazing this would look on your resume. Like, we’re talking ‘oh, there’s a bunch of possible fighter pilots and ohhhh holy crow this guy has already BEEN to space!’ This would SKY-ROCKET your career as a fighter pilot! It would probably even GUARANTEE it! How are you not amazing by this?!?” Hunk shoots off, tightening his grip on Lance’s hands. Lance fixes Hunk with a confused stare, the slightly older boy jostling his arms.

“Opportunities like this almost never come around in a lifetime, Lance. Wouldn’t it at least be okay to try instead of never have tried at all?” He pleads, eyes going liquidy and pout forming as he stared up at Lance. They stare at each other for a while, Lance’s indecisive blue eyes meeting Hunk’s pleading brown eyes. In the end, Lance bits his lip before sighing, shaking his hands out of Hunk’s grip.

“Fine, Hunk, but only because you’re my best friend and you’re really interested in this.” He relents, smiling reluctantly at Hunk’s loud whoop of victory.

“You do love me!” Hunk grins, sitting back on the couch and smiling dreamily at the ceiling.

They sit in the comfortable silence for a second, the clock on the TV ticking quietly between them.

“So, what exactly do I have to do to get this spot anyways? Grab a pot of gold from the end of a rainbow? Getting that stick out of Iverson’s ass? Y’know, something impossible?” He jokes lightly, pausing as Hunk doesn’t answer.

Hunk’s grin turns sheepish, scratching his cheek with a finger. Lance’s eyes narrow, nose scrunching as he crosses his arms over his ridiculous bathrobe.

“Hunk..” Lance starts dangerously.

 

“Well...you might have to...take a test?”

Lance immediately groans loudly, falling down to lay on the couch, propping his feet up on Hunk’s lap. Putting an arm to his forehead, but then yanks it back, frowning at the face mask left on his arm.

“Why, Hunk?? You know I hate tests!! I’m horrible at them! My mind can’t focus and I get really jumpy. I can’t stay still long enough for them!”

Hunk sighs slightly, patting Lance’s feet.

“I know it’s hard for you to take them, but can you please try? Imagine if you get onto the mission! It’ll be so much more fun than sitting around at the Garrison. You’ll get to explore space! I know how smart you are, you can do it! I know you can.” Hunk waves his arms around wildly, smiling as he sees Lance’s tired smile from his position on the couch.

“Fine, I’ll try. But, you,” He point to Hunk with his foot. “Have to cook food for study binges. And help me study. Please?” He adds, not wanting to seem rude or anything. Hunk is his best friend after all. And he’d prefer to die than make him unhappy.

“Pinky promise.” He smiles, holding his pinky out. Leaning back up, Lance smiles back, extending his own pinky. “I’m holding you to that promise.” Smiling, they settle back down on the couch.

Until someone knocks on the door.

Opening it, Lance is faced with one of the Garrison’s guards, squinting down suspiciously at them.

“We’ve received a noise complaint from a few dorms down, complaining that this dorm has been disrupting their studying. Care to explain why this might have happened?”

Flickering his gaze from Hunk’s guilty face to the annoyed officer, Lance and Hunk gulped in unison.

Looks like studying was going to have to wait for the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! Sorry for the wait, but here it is! 
> 
> If you liked it please leave a comment down below it helps keep us motivated knowing people like our story
> 
> .....
> 
> Just read it please lmao

It’s the smell of melting chocolate and vanilla extract that does Lance in, and he is unable to concentrate anymore. Wafting through the empty kitchen, Hunk bustles around the area with his various cooking supplies, a soft lullaby escaping his lips. He bends down and opens the oven to see how his brownies are baking. A soft, warm glow of light coats the food and Hunk slides the tray out with a padded hand, taking in a deep breath as the intoxicating smell of brownies surrounds the two cadets . Taking a toothpick, Hunk quickly sticks it into the center brownie, pulling it out and eyeing it critically before setting it to the side, deeming the brownies ready to cool. Pushing the tray of brownies to the cooling rack, he slides the oven mitts off his hands and moves to join Lance at the table. 

However, as he makes his way around the counter of cooking supplies, a loud, defeated noise echoes across the room, causing him to jump slightly and rattle the nearby mixer. 

“Hey Lance, you ok bud?” Hunk asks, quickly steadying the mixer before anything can happen. 

“Other than being completely dead inside, yeah, just great.” He mumbles, glaring at Hunk with tired, baggy eyes. 

Chuckling behind his large hand, Hunk moves to sit down next to him, breaking out into another laugh when Lance begins to pout. 

“HUNK!! Stop laughing and help me, please!!! I don’t get this nerdy machine stuff!” 

“Alright, alright.” Hunk says, placing his hands in the air as a sign of surrender. Gently prying Lance’s book from his hands, he looks through the page before nodding slightly to himself. Shifting closer to Lance, he points to a diagram and begins to explain. 

“Okay, so first you have to factor in that lead,” He points to another diagram. “Is extremely toxic in space, so you can’t use anything like that in your aircraft. So, with that out of the way, what other material options are there?” 

Lance strokes his chin, eyes screwed up in concentration. The smell of brownies is almost intoxicating, causing him to wiggle and fidget around the study area, clearly battling to keep his attention focused on the subject at hand. 

“Well, couldn’t we use…” Lance trails off, eyes fixated on a small feather that twirls in the air, falling towards the ground. 

“Lance? Buddy? You still with me?” Hunk asks in quick succession, snapping his fingers under Lance’s chin. Startling himself back to reality, Lance quickly shakes his head and focuses back on the book. 

“Well, um, we could try…” His gaze darts around the kitchen, finally settling down on the black stove at the opposite end. “Obsidian?”

 

“Lance, that’s not even an option.”

 

Lance points to Hunk’s mouth wildly, hands flying everywhere. “See! That’s what I meant! I’m not good at this mechanic stuff! I’m not right for this! We should just take the brownies and go back to our room and just watch more ‘Keeping up with the Kardashians!’” 

Gently grabbing Lance’s hands and setting them down on the table, Hunk closes the book and turns his attention to his friend. “Lance, it’s not that you’re ‘not right for this,’” He makes air quotes with his hands. “It’s that you’re not focusing enough. You don’t want to really do the work, so you’re getting easily distracted by other things in the room.”

 

“I’ve been found out.” He jokes lamely, flashing a sheepish grin to his friend. Rolling his eyes and smirking, Hunk stands up and pulls the brownies from the cooling rack, beginning to cut them up into square-shaped pieces.

“What are you doing?” 

Setting a brownie in front of Lance, Hunk smiles before biting into his own, closing the book and pushing it to the side. “We’re having a brownie break, and then we’re going somewhere where you can actually focus on studying.” 

Biting into his brownie, Lance smirks. 

“Good luck with that.”

 

。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。

 

“Hunk, studying shouldn’t require this much exercising.” Lance complains, falling into a weak job behind Hunk. The two are sweaty and exhausted. Lance’s shoulders sag as they walk up to the final library in the entire Garrison to look for an open table. 

“Well Lance, if you ever studied for tests you’d notice that the day before a big exam everywhere fills up,” Hunk finally snaps, his irritation getting the best of him. Shocked, Lance falls into step behind Hunk as they approach the door, biting his lip as they stop in front of the entrance. 

Grumbling slightly about how he studies better in their room, Lance grumpily swings open the door, the heavy steel creaking as it unfolds. With Hunk following behind, the two quickly scan the room. It’s a big room, with rows of neat bookshelves and tidy floors. However, all of the immediate tables are occupied by crowds of sleep-deprived students, mountains of books, and heaps of empty coffee cups. 

“Great, no tables here either. Wonderful. Let’s go back to our room!” Rolling his eyes, Lance begins to stalk away, immediately being whirled around by a large hand. Hunk’s eyes are glittering and excited as he frantically points to Lance’s right. 

“There's one table left, Lance! Let's go grab it before someone else takes it!” He cries, pointing to an unoccupied table. To others, it’s just an ordinary table, square-shaped and made of polished wood. To the two cadets, however, it is their salivation. 

A burst of adrenaline courses through lance and he runs halfway across the room, until the librarian yells at him to slow down. He slows down to a light jog and places his hand on the table.

Feeling a burst of adrenaline coursing through his veins, Lance speeds up towards the unoccupied table, dodging various tired students along the way. 

“No running in the library!” The librarian, an old, cranky lady with a very obvious wig shouts, immediately shushed by one of the students. Slowing down to a light jog, Lance sighs in happiness as he puts one hand on the table. 

It’s short-lived, however, as he sees another hand rest on the table at the same time as his. It’s paler than his own, attached to an arm, attached to a person. One whom Lance immediately detestes. Making eye contact, Lance quickly studies him before making his own conclusion. The guy is shorter than him, pale with black hair sprouting into a- (holy shit, is that an actual mullet? How is this guy even real?) His eyes are currently slanted in irritation at Lance. Making the immediate decision to open his mouth, Lance sneers lightly as he speaks. 

“Dude, I was here first. Can you go?” Lance demands snarkily, feeling what little patience he has left drain away.

“You know, if you had eyes you could have seen that I put my hand on this table first. So it’s mine. Therefor, beat it.” 

Lance sneers, moving down the table and deliberately sliding into one of the chairs, never breaking eye contact. He revels in the annoyance flaring in the stranger’s eyes. If only to try and spite him, the stranger slides into the chair next to him. Staring intensely into the other’s eyes, they continue their little staring contest. 

“What’s with that attitude, mullet. No need to be so hostile when you’re playing a losing hand.” Lance taunts, eyes narrowing slightly as the stranger raises a heavy eyebrow. 

“Did you just insult..my hair?” 

“So what if I did, Mullet?”

Mullet clenches his teeth, clearly annoyed. Short temper, gotta remember that. Lance mentally chalks down, leaning his head on his hand. 

“I’d say that this is the last table at the Garrison and you can have it over my. Dead. body.” Mullet snarls, hair slipping over an eye as he leans under Lance’s head. They’re close, neither one backing down from this fight. 

“What’s going on?” A voice asks from the other side of the table. Lance and him finally break apart, direction their attention to Hunk, who stands at the other end of the table with a stack of books in hand. Setting them down on the wood and placing his book bag to the side. He grabs a thermos and a few notebooks. Hunk stares at them and waves his hand in a circle, expecting an explanation for whatever it was he walked in on. A tablet completes the study equipment as he raises an eyebrow at the two other cadets. 

“What's taking you two so long, spit it out already.”

“This asshole won’t move away from our table!” Lance complains loudly, pointing a finger at Mullet. The shorter cadet sits back on his chair, crossing his arms, huffing some hair out of his face. Flashing Lance a patented emo glare, the mullet-man moves his hand to the table and taps his fingers on the wood impatiently. 

“I was here first. He’s the one who needs to move.” He seethes, his voice tinged with anger but obviously trying to stay calm.

“No fucking way, mullet. I was here before you and if you had any brain cells underneath that atrocity you call hair, you’d know that.” Lance crosses his arms smugly.

“Dumbass.” 

“Mullet-head!” 

Placing his large hands on both the cadet’s chests, Hunk looks at them both pleadingly, eyes darting between their faces. “Come on guys, can’t we just share the table?” He asks, trying to get them both to see reason. 

“Hunk, I’m not gonna share a table with someone who looks like they just walked out of the 80’s!” Lance cries, slamming a hand on the table and attracting the attention of some of the students. Eyeing them nervously, Lance flashes a nervous smile and a wave, coughing awkwardly until they return to their previous positions. 

“He can sit on the other end, Lance. Please. It’s not a big deal, it’ll be like he isn’t even there.” Hunk pleads, grabbing one of Lance’s hands and using the patented puppy stare. 

Groaning and silently cursing Hunk’s liquidy eyes, Lance lets out an, “ughhh...fine.” Before flashing Mullet a look, eyes narrowed dangerously. “Just as long as Mullet over here,” he points his thumb at the stranger. “Doesn’t bother us.” 

“Likewise.” He replies, already grabbing his book-bag. 

Moving their stuff to opposite sides of the table, Mullet pulls out a book and a few crumpled sheets of paper, grabbing a pencil and beginning to jot down notes, occasionally pushing his hair out of his eyes. Lance scoots next to Hunk, pushing the books in front of them so it’s not obvious he’s whispering to his friend. (spoiler: it’s really obvious.) 

“Who even is that person.” Lance grumbles in exaggeration, moving a pencil between his fingers. Hunk turns on his tablet and begins to type, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration. 

“Keith. His name is Keith Kogane.” Hunk finally says, jotting down some notes on his tablet. 

“You say that like he’s James Bond or something.” Lance grumbles, crossing his arms and grunting slightly. 

“Well, he’s kind of a legend around here. Youngest in fighter class, top of the top. He’s basically a prodigy at flying or something like that.” 

“Wait, wait. That’s him? The guy who aced the simulator on like, his second try?” Lance’s eyes widen, shooting Hunk a disbelieving look. 

“Yep.” Hunk pops the p, opening one of the books from the pile and nodding his head absently, opening one of the college notebooks. 

Lance spares a glance at Mullet, (No, Keith Kogane) with distaste, narrowing his eyes in disgust. 

“What do you think he’s studying over there? Probably something stupid. Like his hair.” He sneers, tapping his fingers on the wooden table. Hunk shrugs, biting his pencil as he begins to take notes. 

“Probably the same thing we’re studying for. The Kerberos Mission. It’s what half the people here are trying to study for.” 

“But why would Mullet need any more popularity? He practically owns this place already!” 

Hunk shrugs. 

“It’s not my business. I don’t know his reasons, I only know what people tell me.” 

Lance brushes some hair out of his face, practically snarling at Keith’s disinterested face, staring down at one of the books. It’s in this moment that Lance makes a promise, one to himself and to all time, a promise that he swears he will keep to his grave. 

“I am going to beat his ass at this test.” Lance growls, violently opening one of the books and staring at it. 

“You do that Lance, you do that.” Hunk replies, shrugging absently. 

Lance grabs one of the notebooks and begins to write.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh so sorry about the long hiatus, updates should be coming faster in the future cause we managed to plan out some more of the next few chapters. dappled petals and i love this story a ton and even with our hectic schedules we promise to update as well as we can, but we do want to put quality before updating speeds. Thank you all so much for sticking with us through this you are all awesome!!!!

This is a really stupid idea. 

“Hey Hunk, just call me double 00 Lance.” He whispers, throwing in a casual smirk over his shoulder. Hunk stares on nervously, face slightly green, and hands trembling with anxiety as they make their way down the hallways. 

“Stop messing around Lance! I don’t want to get caught!” Hunk hisses out, shrouded by a veil of darkness in the hallway. His brown eyes, bright and watery, almost glow under the faint fluorescence of night lights throughout the hallways. ‘Lights Out’ at the Garrison was four hours ago, but studying requires snacks in Lance’s mind.

Quickly poking his head from behind the safety of the wall, Lance scans for guards before somersaulting across the hallway, landing on the other side with one hand held up like a gun. Flashing a quick grin at Hunk, he aims the finger-gun at him. Hunk shivers slightly and tentatively walks over, pushing Lance’s hand down as he quickly hides behind the wall, hands still fidgeting with nerves. Lance uses the opportunity to push one finger on Hunk’s forehead, cocking his imaginary gun and shooting with a dramatic sound effect, courtesy of Lance. Immediately, both cadet’s eyes widen in fear as Lance’s voice echoes throughout the empty hallway. Quickly whirling around to make sure no one heard, he doesn’t see Hunk grabbing both of his wrists, pushing his arms down to his sides. 

“Really, Lance? If we’re going to the kitchen in the middle of the night, where guards can easily see us, I don't want your cheesy unnecessary sound effects to be what got us caught.” Hunk rambles, letting his whispers flow ever so quietly. Lance carefully pushes Hunk back, putting his hands on his shoulders and snickers at the situation they are in.

“Hunk, calm down. We’ve done this a thousand times before and we’ve never been caught. Not even once.” 

Hunk’s eyes are still wide and owlish, and his hands haven’t stopped fidgeting, but Lance likes to believe that a little bit of tension dissipates from his shoulders. Grinning at the shorter cadet, Lance’s eyes crinkle a bit as Hunk flashes a hesitant smile back. 

“Now, let’s get to that kitchen!” Lance whisper-yells, earning a sharp shhh from Hunk. Carefully poking his head out to scan the next hallway, he motions behind him as the two continue their long, slow trek to the kitchen. 

When they finally manage to arrive at the kitchen, after 20 minutes and 13 near-misses by the guards (Hunk kept track), the cadets are greeted with the soft hum of the stove and lights glaring down the hallway. 

“Shit.” Lance eloquently states, groaning and slapping a hand over his forehead. After all this work, someone beat them? 

“What is it?” Hunk, ever the nosier, leans over to the edge of the doorway, fully prepared to stick his head over to see who’s inside. Immediately, Lance clamps a hand down on Hunk’s mouth and shoves him to the wall, praying to whatever is up there that the resulting thump wasn’t overheard. There’s silence for a few moments, wherein Lance removes his hand from Hunk’s face, before the silence is broken by shuffling from inside the kitchen. 

“Hello?” A voice calls out, and before Lance can stop him, Hunk slowly walks through the door and waves at whoever is inside. 

“Dammit Hunk, just gotta ruin all the fun.” Lance mutters, reluctantly following Hunk’s example and making his presence known. Stepping into the kitchen behind Hunk, Lance leans over his friend’s shoulders to see who else is up at this ungodly hour. 

 

“Mullet.” His eyes narrow as he recognizes the other cadet, black hair ruffled from sleep and deep circles under his eyes. Mullet tilts his head, brow furrowed as he tries to place Lance’s face. Quickly, his eyes narrow as he turns his back to the taller cadet, a clear sign that his presence is no less welcomed. 

“So, hey Keith, what are you doing up this late?” Hunk asks, Lance wincing as the words hang in the air. Keith looks up as though he’s slightly surprised, hair falling over one eye as they flicker between them.

“Just making some Mac n Cheese.” His voice is clipped and bored, as though he’s answered the question a thousand times. He eyes the two suspiciously, not wanting to sound rude but also wondering why they were talking to him. Steam rises heavily from the pot as the water boils, an empty carton of macaroni on the counter next to it. There’s awkward silence, where Keith turns his back to them to fiddle with the gas button, mouth pressed in a thin line as he stares into the pot. Lance taps his foot on the ground impatiently. They didn’t have time for this! The Garrison wasn’t known for their lenience on cadets who snuck out of their dorms after Lights Out. 

“Oh, let me see! I love mac n cheese!” Hunk smiles excitedly, happy to find some sort of common ground they shared. As Hunk makes his way towards him, Keith swiftly turns around and smoothly blocks Hunk’s access to the pot. Keith tilts his head slightly and a red hue flushes over his cheeks and he gives a guilty smile while averting eye contact. Hunk pauses, tilting his head in confusion. 

“It’s only macaroni, it’s not important.” He drawls slightly, as though that is a suitable excuse for his behavior. Shrugging, Hunk takes a step back and stands near the counter, while Lance’s eyes narrow in contempt. There’s something about Mullet’s voice, all bored and superior-like that just rubs him the wrong way. Must be his evil personality, he muses. 

“Do you need any help, then?” Hunk asks, crossing his arms slightly. He wasn’t born yesterday; he knows when someone stubborn needs help cooking. Lance was the exact same way when they made brownies, wherein somehow Lance managed to turn the fluffy batter into unrecognizable masses of goo.

Hunk made the brownies from then on. 

“I’m fine.” Keith says, looking down at his feet. He clearly wasn’t fine, but Hunk decides not to press the issue. Thinking the conversation is over, he quickly turns his back to Hunk and begins to stir his pot. 

“Yeah, sure you’re fine.” Lance makes his way over to Hunk, crossing his arms as he stares at Keith’s mullet. The other cadet turns his head towards Lance, eyes narrowed and face slightly flushed from the steam. “Believe what you want, but I’m perfectly capable of making my own food.” Keith hisses, turning his head back towards the pot pointedly. Lance smirks, ignoring Hunk’s attempts to keep him at a respectable distance and leans on Keith’s shoulder. Keith jolts as though he’s been burned. 

“You probably managed to burn the water-” Lance looks down at the pot Keith’s tried to hide, and promptly throws his head back in laughter. Stumbling backwards, he leans on the counter and clutches his stomach as he points a finger at Keith, who stares at Lance with a raised eyebrow. His arms are crossed and he holds up the serious act to a T, but his frustration can be seen on his face, giving his true emotions away. 

“Y-you burned it! You actually burned the water and the macaroni?!” Lance slams the counter with his fist, wiping the tears from the corner of his eyes as the laughter subsides. “Dude, anyone can boil macaroni.” He finishes, chuckling to himself. Keith’s eyes are narrowed dangerously, the strange purple-grey color dark in the harsh kitchen light. “Are you finished laughing yet?” He asks, stepping around Lance to grab a strainer from the cabinet. 

“Oi Lance, I don’t believe you have any room to talk after the bacon and egg incident.” Hunk, being the mediator of the group, quickly tries to remedy the situation. He smiles warmly at Keith, who raises an eyebrow at him. 

 

“I don’t need your help.” He snapped, walking past Hunk to strain the macaroni. Hunk’s face visibly wilts with every step he takes walking past him. And Lance practically hisses at Keith’s back. It’s one thing to be a dick and take a library table, it’s one thing to be rude to him, but that was uncalled for. Hunk didn’t do anything to deserve that. 

As Lance walks over to Keith, he hears a dull thud and a loud hiss of pain as a metal pot hits the floor. Keith is standing next to the sink, clutching his hand as his teeth clench. Tears well in his eyes and he mutters a string of curse words, trying his hardest to keep his cool.

“Keith!?” 

Hunk rushes past Lance, who stares numbly as he wrenches Keith’s hand open to see the extent of the injury before yanking his hand to the sink. Cold water hits the pale fingers as he stares numbly at the scene, mouth open and hands still clenched from residual anger. 

“Shit, what do you do for a burn- shit this is going to be so bad- shit this might even affect your simulations- shit shit shitshitshitshtishtishit” Hunk rambles as he increases the spray of cold water. Keith stares down at his hand in almost disbelief, eyes dull and mouth pressed in a thin line as he watches Hunk try and make the water colder. “Butter helps.” He whispers, almost to himself, eyes flickering as he stares at the large, painful blister forming on his hand. Hunk and Lance suddenly make eye contact, their heads shoot up and they screech out in unison, “bUTTER HELPS!” Hunk practically shoots to the fridge, grabbing a stick of butter and running back. 

On the way, he manages to bump into multiple appliances and trip over his own shoes, as if they were in an action movie trying to save a dying friend Hunk tosses the butter to Lance, entrusting the mission to him.

“Do I just rub it on? Do I put it in water?” He mumbles to himself, before swearing intensely and just slapping the butter onto Keith’s hand, where it begins to melt slightly under the heat of his palm. 

Hunk stumbles over to the sink again, slamming his large hand on the faucet and releasing a rush of cold water. Grabbing Lance’s arm, he uses the appendage to drag Keith’s butter-covered hand under the spray. 

“Wait, are we supposed to use regular butter or the creamy kind?” Lance interjects, hovering over Mull-Keith’s burn. 

“Is-is there e-even a difference??” 

“I don’t know man!! You’re the cooking expert?! I can’t even make fucking brownies!!” 

Hunk stutters, “Dd-does it l-look li-like I know first aid??” 

“Point taken.”

Keith stares at the melting butter, how it mixes with the water and drips into the sink and shines underneath the lights, the blisters forming as the butter makes the burn itch and hurt. Finally, clenching his injured hand, he fixes his unnerving gaze onto Hunk and opens his mouth. 

“Why are you two helping me?” 

Hunk freezes, whirling to face Keith as though he had just said that Iverson was screwing someone in his office. His eyes are wide and his hair is messy, sweat shining on his face. 

“What do you mean?” Hunk asks, staring at the butter before meeting the shorter cadet’s gaze. Keith stares numbly at the other cadet, butter melting at a faster pace as the burns itch harder. 

“Why are you helping me? It’s just a burn, it’s fine. No one else would have.” He mumbles, breaking the gaze and looking down at the butter. It’s almost completely gone now, yellow-gold becoming liquid that trails down his arm before falling into a golden puddle in the . It mixes with the grit and the old crumbs, becoming a dirty color the more he looks at it. Hunk is shocked, hands still shaking as he blinks disbelivingly. 

“Because we’re decent human beings? Dude, you just literally burned your Mc-Freakin hand! How else are we supposed to react?!” Lance yells, grabbing Keith’s shoulders. Keith stares, bewildered as he lets go of his shoulders, crossing his arms as he stares at the sink. The burned mac is still there, taunting the three with it’s almost innocent appearance. 

“No one else would have...” 

“Well, we aren’t ‘other people’.” Hunk replies easily, turning on the water. “Now give me your hand, you have to run it under water until I can find a bandage for it. Lance, could you go look for some ace bandages or something?”

Lance startles, biting his lip before nodding and walking to the other side of the kitchen. 

Keith awkwardly shoves his hand under the faucet, shuddering as the water washes the butter off, giving a cool, almost normal feeling. Hunk smiles as Lance wordlessly hands him a roll of gauze, moving to stand at the edge of the kitchen. 

“Are you still hungry?” Hunk asks Keith, tying off the gauze with his fingers as he stands up to look at the job. Keith rubs his eyes, a tired expression creeping onto his face. He gives a small nod of assent, mouth thin and lips pressed together. Like he doesn’t trust himself to speak. 

“Can I make something for you?” He asks, even more gently, like he’s talking to a wild animal. Keith stares up at him through his bangs, looking down before staring at his injured hand. Gradually, his expression softens and he gives another, more hesitant nod. Hunk’s face breaks out in a smile, leaving Keith bewildered and a hot poke of emotion to burn in Lance’s stomach. 

 

“All right! Now, let’s see if we can salvage any of that macaroni.” Hunk asks, clapping his hands in anticipation. Everyone knows Hunk loves cooking; he’s loved it since he could talk. Keith hands over the pot with his non-injured hand and the shorter cadet eyes its contents critically, frowning as he examines the shells. “Well, everything’s burnt..” He finally says, staring up at Keith. “But don’t worry! I know how to make even better mac n cheese!” 

“You don’t have to do this because you pity me…” Keith mumbles, crossing his arms and looking at his feet. Hunk’s face shoots up as he stares at the other cadet, setting the pot down on the stove before smiling. 

“It’s not a problem, Keith. We might have just met, but it’s really no big deal to me. Besides, Lance and I love mac so it’s kind of a win-win.” 

Making their way back to Keith’s area, Hunk dumps out the over-cooked macaroni into the trash, the hiss of steam rising as he washes out the pot. Keith squirms around in his spot, crossing and uncrossing his arms with the awkward aura of not wanting to be here. While Hunk is busy on the other side of the kitchen grating cheddar, Lance walks over to Keith before coming to a stop beside him.

“Just so you know, I know how to cook. I’m just...tired today.” Keith tries to explain, shrugging his shoulders slightly. His mouth is pressed in a thin line and his fingers are tapping something on his arm, foot bouncing along to the beat.

“Sure, it's ok to not be good at cooking though. Hunk is just amazingly talented. Once I tried making tacos and somehow managed to set the meat on fire. That was not a good day.” Lance chuckles, flashing back to him many cooking fiascos.

Hunk comes over and places three bowls in front of them. He sidles into the chair between them, grabbing a fork and beginning to eat. “Eat up, guys.” He says to them, taking a big bite. Lance immediately shoves a huge amount down his throat, shuddering as he’s assaulted with the warmth and flavors. Hunk makes the best food. 

Keith carefully dips his spoon into the mac, eyeing it nervously before taking a small bite. His eyes widen slightly as he chews, an almost imperceptible wave of feeling running through him. He quickly shoves his spoon in and takes another bite. 

“This is really good, Hunk. Thank you.” He says simply, flashing Hunk a strained smile. Hunk’s eyes widen and he throws a grin back, Lance feels another hot poke of emotion in his stomach, eyes narrowing before shoving another spoonful into his mouth aggressively. 

Hunk flashes a bright smile before playfully responding, “No problem, Keith. It really means alot to me that you said that.” Keith’s face turns a soft pink before hurriedly shoving some more mac and cheese into his mouth. Accidentally swallowing wrong, he begins to choke slightly.

Hunk quickly slaps Keith’s back, dislodging the mac and cheese. They both laugh lightly, with their eyes creasing in amusement. As the mac and cheese bowl steadily empties, the conversation continues. 

“Hey, Keith, it’s getting late so we better head back to bed.” 

Keith’s slightly happy aura began to diminish as he glances towards the clock. “Oh.” He says softly, preparing to push himself out of the chair. Climbing out of his chair, he rolls his shoulders and prepares to sneak back to the dorms. 

“Hey, you wanna hang with us tomorrow?”

 

Lance freezes, casting a confused look at Hunk’s earnest, anxious face. His cheeks are tinted red and sweat shines on his face, liquid brown eyes soft in the light. He feels a hot poke of emotion in the pit of his stomach, but brushes it off. 

“I-I mean, you don’t have to if you want. You can decide not to and-” 

“Really?” 

 

Lance feels a wave of anger and desperation wash over him. He grips his bowl tighter and clenches his teeth, trying to combat the ugly feelings in his chest. That’s not right it isn’t fair to Hunk or him stop it stop it-

“Of course!” 

Lance’s head snaps up at Keith’s response. Pale lips pull back into an almost imperceptible smile as he stands up and runs a hand through his hair, handing Hunk his empty bowl. 

Keith responds with a smile, “I’d like that,” before grabbing his book-bag and moving towards the end of the room. 

“We’re in Room 217!” Hunk calls out at the retreating figure, Keith responding with an, “Okay!” Before he exits the room, leaving only Lance, Hunk, and a few bowls of stubborn cheese sauce. 

Setting the bowls down carefully in the Garrison dishwasher, Hunk turns over to Lance. “Well, looks like it’s back to studying.” He jokes, playfully punching Lance’s shoulder. 

“I think I'm gonna take the route outside.”

Hunk freezes, fist still hanging in the air as he awkwardly pulls it back. Lance’s face is shrouded by bangs, turning away slightly from Hunk. He smiles slightly. “I just want some fresh air before we go back to memorizing the 101 different ways to deal with an air leak, y’know?”

“You okay, buddy?” Hunk asks, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder. Lance shrugs it off lightly, though the atmosphere around the two cadets is tinged sour. “I’m fine.” He flashes Hunk a light smile before shoving his hands in his pockets, leaving Hunk behind in the bright lights of the kitchen. 

Without another word, he walks out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this chapter i hope you enjoyed it and as always please comment and leave a kudo if you enjoyed it as it helps motivate us.
> 
> DP: comments are very greatly appreciated, they feed the writing demons we sent our souls to- I mean our writing. Yeah, sure. XD have a nice day!


	4. Chapter 4

It’s been four days. 

The white noise of another, half-rate reality TV show plays in the background, but neither Hunk nor Lance are paying it any attention. Instead, they are camped out on their bunks, surrounded by crumpled-up paper and textbooks, trying to study independently for the next round of tests. Lance flips the page of his physics textbook, re-reading the excerpt about free-fall acceleration with all the intensity a sleep-deprived student under intense stress can. The math seems to float around, blurring and refusing to make any sense, until finally he sighs heavily and shoves it away from himself and onto the covers, underneath his other textbooks. Hunk turns over from his engineering notebook and stares at him from behind it, brown eyes wide and worried. Lance studies him from the corner of his eyes, pretending like he doesn’t notice Hunk’s obvious staring. 

“Um, Lance, buddy? Are you okay?” Hunk asks. Lance closes his eyes for a second to prepare himself, before whirling around to fix Hunk with the biggest grin he can muster up at this point in time.

“Yeah, I’m fine Hunk! Nothing the matter here!” He grins almost obnoxiously, waving his hand in the air casually. 

He knows Hunk doesn’t believe it. 

“Dude, the Kardashians are playing and you haven’t bothered me once for popcorn. Plus you haven’t done your face mask today!” Hunk states exasperatedly, closing his textbook carefully and shaking his hands. Lance stumbles over his words for a second, finally settling on a suitable excuse. 

“W-well, I’ve just been really busy studying.” He lies, opening another textbook. At Hunk’s worried and unconvinced expression, he pretends to sit back and have a thought. “Though, now that you mention it,” he taps a finger to his cheek. “I have been falling behind on my skin-care.” He shakes out his legs and stands up shakily. “I’ll get right on that, thanks for reminding me! Can’t let any pretty girls see me without the skin of a prince!” He jokes playfully, which seems to make Hunk feel more at ease.

Opening the door to the bathroom and walking inside quickly, he locks it and grabs his products. Lance looks up at the open mirror and sees his sleep-deprived face staring back at him. He gulps, opening the bottle of his face mask. 

As he rubs the teal-colored mud mixture on his face, he tries to forget the reasons why the dark circles under his eyes even exists. He spends a few minutes making it even, applying and rubbing off whatever isn’t smooth. Lance lets the mixture dry before running a faucet and letting his hair wash through it. The Garrison bathrooms don’t have big stalls for showers in the dorms, but they do come adorned with a small fixture in the corner that’s very useful for cleaning greasy hair in a flash. Lance runs some fingers through his hair, rubbing it around to let it have an easier time drying out. While it finished drying, he ties a towel around the wet mess and throws on a sweater, feeling much cleaner and confident than a few minutes ago.

Right as he’s finishing up, he hears a sharp knock on the door to their room. Loud shuffling follows and Hunk cries out “I’ll open it!”, before the sound of a door opening. He listens to footsteps, heavy and slow, as someone steps inside their apartment. 

“Nice place.” Lance hears them say, in a voice that makes his blood run cold. 

What the fucking hell is Keith Kogane doing here? 

“Hunk, who is it?” He fights to keep his voice level, annoyance settling into the pit of his stomach. Something about him ticks him off, but he can’t exactly figure out what it is yet.

“It’s Keith! Remember, we asked if he could come study with us?” He hears Hunk say, accompanied by a muffled conversation and the distinct thump of a pile of books hitting their coffee table. 

“Right, okay, I’ll be out in a minute!” He calls out, before quickly shoving all of his products back into the cabinet.

Finally, he opens the door and steps out into the ‘living room’. Hunk and Keith are seated comfortably on the small, beat up couch. A pile of textbooks and notebooks Lance suspects belongs to Keith are situated on the coffee table, some looking much more advanced than anything they had. Keith’s holding a cup of some kind of early coffee he must have grabbed from the mess hall, the Garrison logo stamped neatly on either side of the container. As he takes a sip, he glances around the apartment. 

“Oh, wow, this place is surprisingly clean. For some reason I expected it to be messier.” He muses, eyes drifting from the dirty ‘bedroom area’ littered with an excess of pillows and blankets, to the coffee table piled with an unnecessary amount magazines and loose change. Hunk snorts, laying his head back on the cushion and smiling. 

“This place, clean? You must be joking!” He chuckles, breaking out into a smile when Keith gives him a tiny smirk of amusement. 

“Well, your room is ten times more clean than mine on a good day, so you’re way ahead of me there.” He says, taking a sip of his coffee. 

Hunk slaps back with a quick remark. “Weren’t you that one lucky guy who got an entire dorm to himself? How could it possibly get dirtier than ours?” 

Keith has the decency to look ashamed. “More room means more to clean; let’s just say I shouldn’t be allowed to have a room to myself. It was a mistake on their part to give me that kind of freedom.” 

Hunk bursts out laughing, Keith providing a small chuckle as the two settle back against the bottom of the couch.

Lance watches from the bathroom, the door cracked open enough for him to stare at the two figures on the floor near the couch. He sees Hunk’s smile, Keith’s crooked one. He remembers everything he’s said, all of those jabs at the Hunk and himself. He grips the metal tighter, imagining it bending beneath the pressure, creating fingerprint indentations in the smooth surface. 

He has to stop this. 

He quietly stalks over to the two, quickly shoving Keith to the side with an oof as he settles between them on the floor. He feels a small sense of satisfaction at Mullet’s sour expression. 

“So, what’s happening over here?” He asks Hunk, who’s staring at him confusedly. His eyes blink once, twice, before he shakes it off. He shuffles over to the pile of textbooks on the coffee table, reaching out and grabbing one off to the side. He skims for a few moments, tongue pushed out between his lips, before pausing on a page and pointing at a schematic. Lance looks curiously down at it, nose wrinkling under his mud mask at the picture. It’s a very complicated-looking spaceship engine, with lots of pipes and wires and other things he can’t possibly hope to understand. 

“Honestly, I’m still just really confused about this engine.” He says honestly, bringing the book closer to his chest. “All of the Garrison fighter pilot ships run on this kind of technology, though I can’t wrap my head around it’s power source. Like, what even is this kind of plant material that they use for fuel? Where were the days of gasoline?” He pauses to rub his eyes before continuing. “I need to learn how to fix this for my next assignment, but this puppy’s a little beyond my skill set and I’m not even sure how this is even supposed to get you out of the atmosphere. Garrison ships aren’t ordinarily that big, and the amount of mass you have on a ship directly relates to how effectively it can get you out of the atmosphere. I just can’t wrap my head around it.” He finishes, wiping his nose. Lance blinks at him before shaking his head quickly, shrugging. 

“I can’t really help you with that buddy-”

 

“I can.” 

Hunk and Lance both whip around to stare at Keith, who colors at the sudden attention. He coughs into his (stupid) fingerless gloves before rubbing his neck. “My brother’s friend has a dad who’s really good at that kind of stuff, especially concerning the engine. I guess I’ve picked up a thing or to. I can help you. Um, if you..want to.” He finishes lamely, eyes casting down to the floor. Lance almost interjects, almost tells him that no, he doesn’t want your help, in fact you should probably just- 

“Of course I’d love your help!” Hunk says, gesturing for him to scooch over. Keith passes Lance (and may or may not have purposefully bumped his shoulder), before plopping down next to Hunk and staring critically at the diagram. He works his tongue between his teeth, eyes scanning the page before a pale hand rubs at them. 

“Okay, so you want to understand why they’re using this specific type of plant?” He asks, staring at Hunk. 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay, so basically, things like most rocket fuels are made from specifically ‘Earth’ type things,” Keith makes finger quotes with his hands at the ‘Earth’ part. “So if you try and use something like a plant or a fossil fuel, you can’t readily access it in space. Sure, you could grow plants, but Garrison ships specifically for fighter class aren’t equipped to carry large loads like a series of fuel plants. Oxygen plants, in small amounts, but not heavy duty fuel plants.” 

He reaches down to grab his coffee and take a sip before continuing. 

“So basically, the Garrison found on one of Jupiter’s moons a plant that can actually regenerate its cells faster than they can die off, due to the mutation of the proto-oncogenes.” he snaps his fingers. “And now normally this would be incredibly dangerous, because when cells can multiply for an unlimited amount of time, it can cause tumors and, well... cancer. But we’re talking about plants here, not pathetic human bodies. And since it can regenerate, it can be carried in small amounts. So because of that, the Garrison created an engine that could not only convert the plant into fuel,” he points to the series of complicated pipe-things, “But it could also use it quickly. So that’s why there’s so much extra machinery built in, and why they’re using alien plants and not stuff native to Earth.” 

Hunk’s eyes widen as he stares at the textbook before gasping. “Wow, that’s so smart! Those scientists up here never cease to amaze us, do they?” 

Keith smirks. 

“That’s why the Garrison is the number one space exploration program in the country.” He replies. 

Lance, having sat in the corner for the entirety of that explanation, bristles at the comment. His over-sensitive brain picks out Keith’s words, reviewing them in his head to discern his meaning. Why put so much emphasis on is? Is he trying to make Hunk look stupid? 

He’s been around the block a few times with people his friend has been buddies with. A lot of people use Hunk, make him feel bad because of stupid reasons, and Lance is never going to let that happen again. If Keith’s trying to hurt him and his friend, he better fucking watch out. It doesn’t matter if he’s slowly seeing a newer side of him, he’s not gonna let his friend get hurt again. 

“So, Keith.” He says, putting emphasis on his name. “How’d you learn this stuff?” 

It’s a completely innocent question (if not slightly probing), but he bristles at the comment. His eyes flick back to Lance’s own, narrowing slightly as he scoots away from Hunk. 

“Why should I tell you?” He replies coolly, nails digging slightly into the old shag carpet on the dorm floor. There’s an almost imperceptible twitching of his lips downward, a slight tension in his shoulder muscles. Lance is good with people; he knows that there’s always a few key tells for certain reactions with people. Keith obviously doesn’t like people to ask about his personal business. 

Suspicious, Lance thinks. 

“I was just wondering, Keith. Wondering how’d you get all that information when it wasn’t even from a textbook.” 

“Maybe I read it somewhere else.” Keith replies, teeth gritted and set. Lance smirks. 

“Doesn’t seem like knowledge you’d get from a book. More like something someone taught you.”

“Are you trying to insinuate something?” 

“Maybe I am, Keith. I mean, it’d be pretty unfair if someone was getting exclusive knowledge on these things, wouldn't it.” He replies. 

The worst part is, Lance doesn’t even know why he’s doing this. Egging Keith on, trying to get him to blow up. Maybe he wants to prove his paranoia is right, that Keith’s really just trying to make fun of him and Hunk. Maybe he’s trying to prove that Keith is dangerous, that he’s new, unreliable and he shouldn’t come back. Maybe he just doesn’t understand Keith. Maybe this is the only way he can think of to figure him out. 

Regardless of Lance’s intentions, he gets what he’s unconsciously been trying to do. 

Keith stands to his feet and grabs his bookbag. Shoving his textbooks roughly into the fabric and shoving it closed, he grabs his cup of coffee and whirls around to Hunk, gathering up an apologetic face. 

“I think it was a mistake to come here. I’ll get out of your way.” He seethes, at least trying to push down his anger to give an explanation. Shooting an unreadable look at Lance’s face, he stiffly walks over to the apartment door and opens it. 

“Wait, Keith-” Hunk tries, he really does. 

“Sorry.” He replies quickly, dodging Hunk’s confused hand. 

And the apartment door closes. 

Hunk turns around and walks over to Lance, who’s staring at the door in disbelief. This isn’t what he wanted (but wasn’t it just what he was trying to do?) He stares up mutely at Hunk’s face, who’s looking down at him with an expression only described as anger. It’s something he’s almost never seen on his gentle friend’s face. Never directed at him. 

“What the hell, Lance?” Hunk almost shouts, and looks up to the ceiling in disbelief, “What was that? It's so not like you!” 

Lance looks incredulously at Hunk, thinking the reason should have been obvious. 

“What do you mean Hunk? Why are you yelling at me? It was pretty clear how rude he was being.”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe Keith’s a nice person? That maybe he’s hanging around because he, oh I don’t know, wants to be friends?! ” Hunk yells, eyes screwing up in anger. He’s never done this before. 

“Hunk he legit came in here and just started insulting you. Of course he's not a nice person.”

“I INVITED HIM LANCE! YOU WERE THE ONE BEING RUDE TO HIM!” Hunk retorts, hands running through his hair. He’s standing up tall, almost as tall as Lance, brown eyes shimmering with an intensity Lance hasn’t seen before. 

“HUNK HE WAS ACTING LIKE HE WAS BETTER THAN YOU, HE WAS INSULTING YOU TO YOUR FACE, AND ME AS WELL!”

Hunk stops for a second, running his hands through his hair and biting his lip. 

“Are you serious right now? That’s friendly banter, he was bantering with us. Maybe you can’t see it because of your stupid obsession with hating him, thinking your ‘rivals’ or whatever, but he’s actually a genuinely nice person who just wants to be friends with us.” He chuckles a little, eyes scrunching and tearing up in frustration. “And now you just drove him off, just because he was trying to be friendly. Good job Lance, if you wanted to bully him until he left then you certainly got your fucking way.” 

Lance stops, eyes widening slightly at Hunk’s last statement. He made him cry, Jesus he didn’t mean to do this, this wasn’t what was supposed to happen- 

“I-I…” 

He can’t think of anything to say. 

Hunk smiles sadly, but it’s without emotion. He turns away from his friend and goes to sit on the couch. Lance wants to reach out, to try and fix this, but his head is pounding and he can’t make sense of anything and shit- 

What the fuck did he do. 

“I really messed up didn’t I?” He mutters to no one but himself, even though he knows Hunk can hear him from his position on the couch. 

He has to go apologize to Keith. 

He doesn’t necessarily sprint out of the dorm room, regardless of the fact that it’s already near Lights Out, but he does hightail it out of there like a Minecraft bunny. Slamming the door behind him, he breaks into a run through the hallways and slips on one of the polished areas of the ground, fighting to regain his balance, skidding against one of the hallway walls before regaining it. 

Rubbing his shoulder, he quickly slides against the corner before running off again, dodging random students and personnel along the way. One such person, who he faintly remembers is his Engineering Teacher, yells after him “No running in the halls!” But he ignores this comment and puts on another burst of speed, leaving her in the dust. 

“Fuck, which is his room, which is his fucking ROOM?!?!” He yells behind him, frantically trying to remember. He thinks Hunk asked before but he can’t fucking remember- 

He almost slams into a small girl, maybe like 10, a VISITOR badge pinned to her shirt. She screeches as he turns at the last second, slamming into a wall and letting out an “OOF!” Before clutching his head and stumbling back. Her computer slips out of her hand as she falls to the floor, the smooth electronic surface sliding towards Lance’s legs. 

Picking up the fallen device, he tries to hand it back to the girl with an added “Shit kid, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-” 

She frantically grabs her computer, opening it and typing a few of the orange keys in quick succession, muttering a string of profanities as she does. After determining that it is not, in fact, broken, her amber eyes flash furiously at the taller boy. 

“You almost broke my computer you absolute FUCKING JELLYFISH!” She shouts and grits her teeth, clutching said electronic close to her chest, orange hair strands falling out of her ponytail. Lance raises both hands up in a universal ‘surrender’ motion, taking a few steps back. 

“Hey, I’m really sorry kid-” 

“I’M NOT A KID!” 

God, is he just actually pissing everyone off today? Keith (even though it was somewhat intentional), Hunk, now this ki- tiny person?

“Okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop.” He says, taking a few more steps back. 

Letting out a breath, the girl raises an eyebrow at him. “Where are you even trying to get to like that?” Her voice is still angry, but a tone of curiosity mixes in. 

Lance rubs the back of his neck, shoulders tightening. “I’m...trying to find a friend, his name is Keith. I need to talk to him about some..issues today but I don’t know his room number.” God what is even supposed to do, at the rate he’s going he’s gonna be running around the Garrison all night before he can figure it out-

“Oh, Keith Kogane? I’m pretty sure he’s in room 302 on the second floor.”

“Oh my god thank you so much kid!” He bursts in temporary happiness and grabs her by the shoulders, accidentally shaking her a bit. She grabs his wrist and pushes it off, scowling at him. 

“I am not a kid! I’m 13! And my name is Katie!!” She retorts, hugging her computer close to her chest. She looks kind of familiar in a way, like someone he knows. Oh well. 

“Well, thanks Katie! I owe you one!” He calls out, before taking off again. 

A part of him wonders if he’ll ever see her again. Probably not, she’s most likely just one of the siblings of a cadet, here to drop something off. Whatever, he has more important things to concern himself with right now. 

Skidding by the corner and narrowly dodging some orange-haired kid who vaguely resembles Naruto from that anime he used to watch as a kid, he quickly runs up a set of stairs before racing down the hallway, dodging yet more cadets as he passes. At the end of the next dorm hallway, he sees the numbers 302 painted neatly on the door, black set against cold grey. Lance skids to a stop, breathing heavily, aware of how ridiculous he looks in his bathrobe and crumbly face mask, probably dripping in sweat and looking like he just ran for his life. Well, in a sense he did, for his social life. 

Raising a hand to knock on the door, he’s hit with sudden anxiety. It’s only been about 20, maybe 30 minutes since he’s seen him last. What if he’s still angry? What if he’s going to make it worse? Maybe he should just give him some more time to cool off?

Well, he thinks, knocking on the metal quickly, he can’t make it worse than it already is. 

He hears shuffling at the other end, presumably someone walking along the carpet. The automatic knob makes a familiar sliding noise as the door opens, and he’s faced with none other than Keith Kogane himself. 

His hair is messed up and wet, probably from a shower. A few beads of water are still dripping from the tips, a towel wrapped around his shoulders. His tired eyes are staring at him with surprise before narrowing. 

“What do you want now?” He asks, a little too coldly for it to be real. Lance gulps, words suddenly leaving him. Taking a deep breath, he begins to babble. 

“I just, um, I mean, I just wanted to say, um, what I want to say is, uh-” 

Keith rolls his eyes, beginning to close the door, when Lance quickly shoots his foot out to keep it open. Keith stares down at it with surprise, probably noticing the slippers as well. Lance averts his eyes and focuses on the suddenly VERY intriguing hallway floor. Is that- is that metal he sees? He should stare a little longer just to be sure. 

Glancing up for a moment to see Keith’s confused face, he lets out a breath before steeling himself. Clenching his fists and fighting the sudden waves of what if what if what if, he opens his mouth and begins to speak. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Without any sound from Keith, Lance rubs the back of his neck trying to ignore the awkwardness. “I was a jerk to you, even when we met. Especially back at the apartment. I just…” He rubs his eyes and looks back at the ground. “-I didn’t know..what you wanted from me and Hunk, I guess.” He shuffles his feet, slippers making a strange sound on the metal floor. “I was afraid, I guess, that you’d hurt us because I didn’t know who exactly you were, and I couldn’t figure you out.” 

He looks up at this point, matching Keith’s gaze. He feels like he sees the other boy for the first time, actually sees him; sees that beyond the higher scores, the older age, the standoff-ish personality, Keith’s just a kid. Like him and Hunk. A kid who just wants to make friends, to learn things, who wants to go to space and see it in a way few others have seen before. 

A kid who doesn’t deserve this. 

“That’s not an excuse for being an asshole to you, and for that I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed or tried to poke at your business. And I’m sorry for calling you a cheater and trying to get all up in your personal business-” 

Keith puts a finger in the air, effectively silencing him. As he lowers it, purple-grey eyes soften a little as he uncrosses his arms, grabbing the ends of his towel. 

“Thanks.” He says simply, but to Lance it means a lot of things. He exhales quietly, shuffling his slippers as he lets go of his neck. 

The next few seconds are agonizingly long, as the two stand awkwardly in the entrance of Keith’s room. Lance coughs into his hand; Keith fiddles with his towel. Finally, the sound of a muffled shout comes from the inside of the older cadet’s dorm, causing both of them to whirl around in surprise. 

“Shit, I forgot about the movie…” Keith mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. Lance raises an eyebrow. 

“Movie?” 

Keith shrugs awkwardly. “I was gonna watch a movie since I didn’t have anyone to study with, but then you showed up..so…” 

 

“Right.” Lance chuckles awkwardly, fiddling with the ends of his bathrobe. “I guess I’ll leave you to it?” He turns around to leave, slipping a little with the slippers on, before he feels a cold hand wrap around his wrist. Looking over his shoulder, he sees Keith looking at him, pale pink coloring his nose and cheeks. “Wait.” He says. 

“Yeah?” Lance asks, waiting for Keith to respond. 

“Um, I uh..made too much popcorn for myself and I’m watching ‘Spirited Away’. Do you want to, maybe, i dunno… come in?” When Lance refuses to answer, he throws out a “It’s caramel popcorn?” It’s awkward and he’s shuffling and looks like he expects Lance to spit in his face and walk off, but it’s a start. It means Keith’s still willing to try, to try and have a fresh start, to try and get along and actually start off on the ‘right’ foot as opposed to the ‘wrong’ one. 

Lance smiles, and he feels Keith’s hand loosen slightly as he slumps down, relieved. 

“I’d love to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're so sorry this chapter look like 2 months, but it's finally here! We hope you enjoy it and please shoot us a comment or an ask on our tumblrs! Have a great day!  
> Hey y'all so sorry about the dreadfully long wait on this chapter. Halfway through the chapter I was a bit difficult and just announced "nope we gotta change it" and so this took a while longer to upload. Thank you all for your patience and feel free to follow us on Tumblr @palagypsian @dappledpetals  
> 


	5. IMPORTANT UPDATE

Hello dear readers, i am so sorry for the lack of updates and radio silence. I feel so bad and i hope you all will forgive me. As you may remember this story used to be a collaboration between myself and a dear friend, but recently they have had many things happen in life and are very busy which is why we havent been able to upload any new chapters because we were unable to work on anything. They have since realised that they do not beleive they will have any time in the coming future to work on this story, so they informed me that they will not be workin on this story anymore, but will be relinquishing control of the story to me, and i will continue to work and update this story for as long as there is even one person who enjoys and wants more. Please hold tight and i will update as soon as possible!!! 

Love, palagypsian


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